Imperfect
by Mycroft-mione
Summary: Dean and Seamus are on a mission. But the guile of Dumbledore and a strange intervention make that mission turn out a lot differently than expected.
**Word count** : 1160

 **Written for** :

Bad Movie Tuesdays - [creature] Dragon, [dialogue] "I need to show you something", [word] Vessel

The Game Is On Challenge - A Study in Scarlet: Write about a Gryffindor.

Weekly Character Appreciation Challenge - Dean Thomas

May Event Checklist - 13. St George's Day: Include a dragon in your story

* * *

 **Imperfect**

* * *

Dean locked eyes with Seamus, confident that his toes were just approaching the edge of the chalk line on the floor, but not touching. They nodded in synchrony. Taking a deep breath, Dean braced himself and stepped across, waiting for some force to shove him out of the circle or attack.

Nothing happened.

It took a great deal of concentration for Dean to avoid letting out a war whoop. _Yes!_ Beside him, Seamus jumped excitedly and raced over the line, clutching a scrap of paper in his hand.

"We did it, mate!" he hissed. "It worked!" Allowing themselves a clap on the back, they then looked to where the Goblet of Fire loomed above them, sitting on a silver pedestal. Dean gazed at longingly.

"I can't believe it worked," he murmured. "Everyone said the Age Line was perfect, since Dumbledore made it."

"Whatever," said Seamus. "It can't have been that good. We beat it!"

His friend smoothed out the paper with his name, reaching blindly with his hand to the mouth of the cup, and held it there, ready to drop it in. Floating blue bubbles issued from the vessel, and there was a promising humming sound. The goblet seemed more ready than ever to accept their names.

Dean stuck out his hand and held it above the cup next to Seamus's. "On three?" he asked.

"Let's get this over with."

"One... two..."

Seamus released the paper early, and Dean watched in slow motion as it fluttered into the goblet. Lightning seemed to strike the surface, lighting the room and filling it with the smell of sulfur. Seamus's paper flew back out of the cup, erupting into ash. With a CRACK Seamus was flung backwards, rolling head over heels in midair until he collided with a suit or armor along the far wall.

Dean leapt out of the circle, his scrap of parchment forgotten. As he crossed back over the Age Line, he felt fire on his chin. His fingers scratched at new stubble growing, then hairs, then a massive beard.

"Did Dumbledore-" Seamus sputtered- "put a time delay on the Age Line?!"

"Apparently."

* * *

After a brief visit to the Hospital Wing, where Dean and Seamus met the dozens of other bearded students, it was time for the evening feast. Dean anxiously awaited the reveal of the Triwizard champions, hoping at least that the Hogwarts champion was a Gryffindor.

Hermione Granger gave him a disapproving look as he and Seamus walked into the Great Hall, their heads held high. _Whatever_ , Dean thought. He had enough fans and admirers already just for attempting to put his name in.

Dumbledore stood up, hushing the crowd. He dramatically raised the height of the goblet's flames with his palm. Suddenly, a piece of paper shot out of the cup.

"The Durmstrang champion is Victor Krum."

A minute later: "The Beauxbatons Academy representative is Fleur Delacour."

Finally: "And from Hogwarts... Cedric Diggory!"

Dean sighed. He wasn't fond of Diggory, knowing him to be popular with the girls. How would he ever get a date when half the school pined after one boy? But secretly, he was glad that no one better had been chosen. Maybe, if he was lucky, Diggory would get some kind of face wound and everyone would get over him.

Then, a fourth slip of paper shot out of the goblet, and the crowd gasped. Dumbledore looked completely shocked, an expression Dean had never seen on the headmaster's face before. He plucked the paper out of the air and read aloud:

"...Dean Thomas."

* * *

"How?!" demanded Seamus. "You got a beard like me! This isn't bloody fair!"

Dean sighed, closing his eyes. They had just escaped the mob of people in the common room, but even in the dormitory, the questions were ceaseless.

"Why couldn't it have been me? At least I'm closer to being of age than you." Seamus paced around the room, kicking various articles of clothing.

"I haven't got a clue," said Dean. "I didn't put it in. You were there."

Seamus stopped. "Maybe someone found your slip and just put it in the cup! Mine burned up, right? But maybe yours didn't."

Dean remembered leaving the goblet at a run, trying and failing to cover his sprouting beard with his hands as he and Seamus raced through the halls. Had he picked up his paper and brought it with him? Dean checked the pockets of his robes and found nothing.

"It's possible," he said slowly. "But why?"

"Some kind of joke?"

"That's a pretty sick joke." Dean shook his head, falling backwards onto his bed. "I bet Dumbledore will have cleared it up in the morning. I'm not even of age. I can't compete." Dean paused. "Seamus, mate, I could _die_."

"They'll figure it out," his friend promised.

"I hope so."

* * *

Dean fell asleep, and slept soundly until the next morning, when he was rudely awakened by an owl at the window.

"Whagh?" he mumbled, rolling over. He heard a sliding sound, and then hooting noises. Dean had only enough time to duck before a great fluffy white owl soared over his head and landed at his side, poking him repeatedly. Hedwig. Rubbing his eyes, Dean grabbed the note attached to the owl's leg and unrolled it.

Written in hastily scrawled print were the words:

 _Come down to Hagrid's NOW! Don't tell anyone. I need to show you something._

 _-Harry_

Dean inspected his robes, sniffed them tentatively, and headed out the door. They weren't that bad.

When he reached Hagrid's hut, Harry was waiting just inside the door.

"Hey," Dean said. "What's going on?"

Harry launched into a story. "Hagrid was showing me something last night- I'm not entirely sure why- but you need to know. You need to know a whole lot more than I did, at least."

"What is it?"

Harry said nothing more, just led Dean along the edge of the forest to a small outcropping. Beyond it, they walked a bit further, until Dean heard noises he hadn't noticed back at the castle.

"Are you sure-?"

"Yes," Harry insisted. "Look."

Dean squinted his eyes. There was some mist, as it was still early in the morning, but as he gazed ahead, objects began to register in his head. Large ones. Then there were men's voices shouting in the distance. A plume of fire shot into the sky, and Dean finally saw what Harry had dragged him there for.

"Dragons," he breathed.

Three huge beasts lumbered around, only restrained by wizards tying them to the ground with giant chains. A pair of scaly wings flapped defiantly, causing a breeze to wash over Dean and Harry. Then, another figure came into a view: a fourth dragon, larger than the others, and much more terrifying.

"Oh god- oh Merlin."

Harry looked at him with worry. "They've got one for you, too, now."

"I have to fight one of those?"

Harry grimaced and nodded.

Dean frowned. "Okay, this sucks."


End file.
